


Let's Go Home, Simon Snow

by cj_hayyy



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Dry Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Jealous Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Original Character(s), POV Penelope Bunce, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Post-Watford (Simon Snow), Shower Sex, Simon Snow's Wings and Tail, Simon gets a visit from a dragon, Smut, SnowBaz, The dragon girl is hot, Watford (Simon Snow), Wingfic, actually has more of a plot than I thought it would, if you're into dragons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24011683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cj_hayyy/pseuds/cj_hayyy
Summary: Simon, Baz, Penny, and Shepard make it back to Watford after surviving America, and Professor Bunce has them stay in the dormitories until she can brief them further on the events that made them fly back home so quickly. However, When Simon and Baz get back to their room, they're paid a visit by a Dragon named Scout- who's traveled all the way from America to find Simon.She tells Simon he has a home, and she and his new family are waiting for him back at the mountains. But Simon would have to leave behind the only world he's known, even though he's felt disconnected from it since the day he lost his magic. Even though he's able to tap into something since arriving on campus...Even though Simon is confused and overwhelmed at the news that he's now, technically, a magical creature- he feels a sense of exhilaration at the prospect of tapping into his new abilities and culture with Scout's help.Because if there is anything Simon loves as much as Baz, it's an adventure.But will that mean he has to leave his past adventures behind?
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 26
Kudos: 78





	1. Hello, Kitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, this is my first fanfic ever. And I'm sure it shows, so just, you know, ignore all the plot holes riddled throughout it, and any other errors that shame me as a writer. Maybe one day I'll actually edit the things I write, but I'm not mature enough for that yet so, we'll see. Enjoy(ish?)!

**Simon**

I didn't want to come here.

Well, I did and I didn't. That makes sense, doesn't it?

No, I didn't think so either. But here I am, with Baz, Penny, and Shepard- whom Penny decided needed our services right before boarding a flight back home.

Well, not home, exactly.

Professor Bunce greets as at the gate, I think it’s because she wants to see Shepard for herself before she lets him in, and we she’s got to give us access to even step onto the grounds because he and I aren’t magic. As if I didn’t have enough painful reminders of what I’ve lost.

All I’ve got are these wings and this tail. Dr. Wellbelove might be able to take them off, but I don’t know if I want him too.

“First off, don’t even _think_ that you’re getting off easy with your whole Escape to America tragedy. I just don’t want to lose my job because I accidentally incinerated alumni due to my fury towards the lot of you.” Everything about Professor Bunce, at the moment, is absolutely and utterly terrifying.

Maybe we have better chances of surviving if he go back to America. But I can’t go back there for a long, long time. Maybe ever.

“You”, Professor Bunce directs to Shepard. “You and Penelope will come with me to the Tower. I’ve been told that you’re in… quite the predicament.”

Shepard has that people-person persona up and running, although he’s got a bit of sweat on his brow. “Yes, Mrs. Bunce, and I tried to tell her that nothing can be done, but-”

“Professor Bunce. And that was your first mistake- never give Penelope a challenge, because she has a nasty little habit of not being able to say ‘no’.” She gives Penny a look that says, _look what you’ve done this time._ “And you two,” she’s addressing me and Baz, now, “will go on up to Mummer’s and get yourself settled. We’re going to be here for a while. I can trust you remember when your old room is?”

“Of course”, Baz answers with a polite nod.

“Good. Off you go, then. I’m going to need some time to work on this one.” Professor Bunce grabs Shepard by his jean jacket sleeve and pulls him along side her, like he might run off if she didn’t. I’m not convinced he wouldn’t by the look of his face.

Penny tuns around for a moment and points a finger between the two of us, “I’m coming to your room later, so please try to behave yourselves.”

“Knock, then Bunce. Crowley.”

I know Baz meant it to be playful, but it makes my chest cave against me, nonetheless. Penny rolls her eyes and jogs to catch up with her mother and Shep.

I can feel Baz stealing looks of me from my peripherals, and it makes me all the more uneasy.

We didn’t talk after the beach, after he said he wouldn’t be happy anywhere else without me. Shepard and Penny gabbed nearly the entire plane ride, Agatha either slept through the whole thing, and I kept my headphones on and watched more shit movies about America and unrealistic road trips.

Baz played on his phone the entire time. He wouldn’t stop bouncing his knee.

We weren’t as cramped on the plane this time since Penelope splurged on first-class tickets. (She had that “in for a penny, in for a pound” mentality up until we landed.) (It was also the spell she used to get the money we needed for the tickets.)

“Shall we go then, Snow?” Baz is looking at me with something that either looks like pity or uncertainty. He must notice how I’m feeling to be back here.

“Uh. Well, I-. Um.”

“Use your words, Snow.” He doesn’t mean it maliciously like he used to.

“Well… Do you think Cook Pritchard is here?”

“Alister bloody Crowley, I should have known better.” He shakes his head like he’s annoyed with me, (I think he’s always annoyed with me) but he’s got a bit of a smile that he thinks I can’t see.

I wish he’d do that more- smile, I mean.

“Come on then, Simon” he says with a wave for me to follow. “Let’s feed you and grab something for when your inevitably hungry later.”

I still like when he calls me Simon.

**Baz**

We get all of Snow’s favourites- including sour cherry scones, accompanied by entirely too much butter. When he slathers it on, it enhances the scent he emanates, tenfold.

When we get to the room, Snow brings up the spade of his tail and attempts to cut his finger.

“Crowley, Snow! Just let me do it.” I slip out my wand from my sleeve and cite the incantation to unlock the door. My feet hesitate before stepping inside.

Everything is almost exactly the way we left it, minus our trunks and personals, but those will be brought up later.

I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but I swear I can smell Simon’s old magic coming our from the walls. It’s that green firewood, burning smell. I have to suppress a cough within my first breath on entering.

“Still looks the way we left it, doesn’t it?” I ask. When I don’t get an answer, I turn to find him still standing at the doorway, gaping at the room around me. He hasn’t looked me in the eye since before the plane.

My first instinct is to tell him to just come in, for Crowley’s sake. But I restrain when he does finally look me in the eye, and it’s that look he got when he would come at me, fists at the ready, before our last year here at Watford.

I startle back when he charges towards me, but he catches me by the front of my shirt and yanks me down to his mouth. I don’t have the time to try to figure out what just bloody happened, because Simon Snow has a fist clenched in the back of my hair, and is walking me backwards until the backs of my legs hit my bed to lay me down and lean over the top of me. He’s got fire in his eyes and fucking Merlin, Methalusa, and Morgana, I don’t care if I burn alive.

I’m not sure that I’m not, already.

He presses his body down onto mine and I’m bloody done for. I run my hands up his back as he situates himself on top of me, his knees bracketing my hips. He wraps his tail around so high up my thigh, I fucking moan into his mouth. The fucking prat has the stones to smile over it.

“Can you feel it?” he whispers against my neck, then takes a nip at my collarbone.

I close my eyes and shudder. “In the position we’re in, it would be difficult not to.”

He shakes his head, and I feel the end of his nose rub against my chest. “No, not that. The magic.”

He runs his tongue along the shell of my ear instead. My hips practically buck up off the mattress at the sensation.

“ _My_ magic.”

I stop, by some miracle of Merlin, and push some distance between us. “You can feel it, too?”

He’s relentless. He takes my wrists and pins them above my head, and hisses “ _Yesss_ ” into my ear. Then bites at the lobe and my hips _do_ buck up this time. We both groan when I press up between his thighs.

He pulls me up by my shirt and then pushes my back up against the headboard. He’s still straddling me when he eases down to sit onto my lap, mere centimeters away from where my body is craving, and starts to slowly (although clumsily) unbutton my shirt.

“I’ve wanted to do very, very bad things to you in this room for _ages_ ”, he pants out, taking a moment to run his hand down my sternum. I’m breathless and desperate, and he’s fucking reveling in it.

He gets to the last button, and wastes no time covering my chest and stomach in wet, open mouth kisses. He keeps going lower. I’m not going to last if he keeps going.

“Simon- _fuck._ Simon, wait.” He’s right below my bellybutton when he looks up at me, and smiles wickedly. I’m straining hard against my trousers, and he’s hard against my leg.

“D’you want me to stop?”

“I- I, er.” He grins even more at my blustering, then sits up and rest back down on my lap again. I want to grind my hips up into him, but he’s got me held in place by his weight.

I reach for the hem of his shirt and he stills, smile gone from his face. I let go immediately and move my hands as far away as I can manage.

Ah, so back here again, are we?

“I’m sorry.” I drop my eyes from his. I can’t stand to see him like this anymore, and know that it’s my fault.

“Don’t.” He grabs at my hands before they can move any further away from him. He’s trembling against me, and I’m about to have him stop before he places my hands on his back and leans his forehead against mine. “Touch me here. Please.”

He says it with a finality that grants me permission, I can tell by the way his tremble steadies and he begins moving against me. He grinds down onto me, and then swallows my moan with his tongue down my throat and his hands sliding all around my chest.

He takes my wrist above my head again, but pins them against the wall now, above the headboard, and _fuck_ I’m going to come.

“Oh, _God_ , this feels so good” he moans against my mouth, and I’m practically sobbing against his.

There’s a heat on the back of my hands where they’re pressed against the wall, and I know that its whatever is left of Simon’s residual magic embedded there. He must feel it to, because he lets one hand take both my wrists while the other runs up the wall. He shivers, and I hear his nails dig into the wall so hard he chips the paint.

“Simon? Basil? You in there?”

I’m going to drain Penelope fucking Bunce.

Simons breaks away from me, and, remorsefully, lets go of my wrists and takes his hand from the wall. He awkwardly clears his throat and slides off the edge of my bed to rolls onto his. I think about how I can reach out and touch his bed from mine.

The door opens, regardless of neither of us giving her permission.

“Oh, good! I didn’t walk in on anything.”

“Yes, your timing couldn’t have been any better.” Every word is laced in venom. I watch her brows shoot up to her hairline, Snow buries his face in his pillow. I’m just trying to stave off the ache in my cock without anyone noticing.

“Where’s Shepard?” Snow asks, muffled through his pillow.

“Mum’s working on his curse for a bit longer. She’s now officially intrigued.” She skips over to Simon’s bed and flops down to sit at the foot of it. She grabs his ankle and shakes it to get his attention. “She wanted to know what you’d all fancy for dinner. There’s a good ramen-”

Bunce stops and looks around the room for a moment, and I think she’s going to comment on the buzz of Simon’s magic radiating in this room.

“You hear that?” she asks, instead.

“Hear wha-”

“ _Shh!_ ” She interrupts Simon. It doesn’t take long for me to hear it, as well.

It sounds like someone aggressively airing out a bed sheet over and over. Then I hear the latch on the window start to rattle.

I stand first with my wand at the ready, with Bunce falling in line beside me. Simon urgently looks around for anything he could use as a weapon. It’s too dark out to see what it is, even with my eyesight, but I can see movement. The window won’t hold much longer.

_Fwoosh. Fwoosh. Fwoosh._

Something scraps up in between the panes, towards the latch. And then…

_Click._

The strength of the wind is so strong that it blasts the doors of the window wide open, hard enough for them to swing around and hit the adjacent wall behind them. Most of the glass shatters on impact.

Then there’s the stound of heavy footsteps, stepping down from the windowsill.

“Pretty rude to lock a guest out like that”, says a female’s voice, American accented. “But, I guess I get it, not every day you get someone literally flying into your dorm room, am I right?”

A woman- dressed from the neck down in black, knee-high riding boots, and waist-length silver hair- lands with a light _thump_ onto our wood floor.

Her dark violet leathery wings stretched up to the ceiling, and a rope-like tail to match.

She looks around and finds Simon, who’s defensive stance turned into stunned silence

“Hello, kitten.”


	2. I'm Here to Help, Duh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No”, Penelope gasps. “This cannot be possible.”
> 
> The woman shrugs her shoulders, and her wings, and I hear the clanging of the jewelry on her wrist. Gold bracelets, stacked nearly to her elbow. She sees me watching her and directs her attention to my wings.
> 
> “My Gods”, she whispers as she steps closer towards me.
> 
> Baz is quickly one step in front of her, blocking her way. His fangs are definitely out now and he bares them at her. She actually rolls her fucking eyes at him! Then is back to focusing on me.
> 
> She scans me over, from wing tip to tail. “A Great Red. I can’t fucking believe it.”
> 
> She moves to step around Baz, not even bothering to look at him, but he takes another step in her path. Now she just looks annoyed, and gives him a humourless laugh.
> 
> “You think you’re the only one with teeth, doll?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get real dramatic, and then real steamy, up in hereeee  
> I've been writing my own stuff for a few years, now. (For funsies and stress relief.) But this is my first fanfic so please be gentle with me lol

**2.**

**Simon**

“Oh, fuuuck me” I hear come out of my own mouth.

“Well, at least buy me dinner first, honey.” She playfully winks at me, and Baz starts towards her with his wand at the ready.

“What do you want?” he’s growling through clenched teeth, his wand mere centimeters from her face.

She doesn’t even flinch, just studies it for a moment. “Hmm, Heffalump tusk. You must be the blood-eating mage. And somehow not the Next Blood?”

Her voice is borderline condescending. Baz presses his lips tight together, and I think I can see his mouth fill up with his fangs.

“ _No_ ”, Penelope gasps. “This _cannot_ be possible.”

The woman shrugs her shoulders, and her wings, and I hear the clanging of the jewelry on her wrist. Gold bracelets, stacked nearly to her elbow. She see me watching her and directs her attention to my wings.

“My _God_ ”, she whispers as she steps closer towards me.

Baz is quickly one step in front of her, blocking her way. His fangs are definitely out now and he bares them at her. She actually _rolls her fucking eyes_ at him! Then is back to focusing on me.

She scans me over, from wing tip to tail. “A Great Red. I can’t fucking believe it.”

She moves to step around Baz, not even bothering to look at him, but he takes another step in her path. Now she just looks annoyed, and gives him a humourless laugh.

“You think you’re the only one with teeth, boy?”

She squares up to him, and now it’s my turn to step in, but Penny grabs my arm and yanks me back as she shakes her head feverously.

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine”, and she smiles, with sharp rows of teeth replacing all the human-like ones she just had before.

Baz only falters a little, but she sees it. She’s studying him now, and makes a face like she’s listening very closely to something. I don’t hear anything.

“Ahh, I see” she says out of nowhere, and teeth back to normal. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt, or fuck, your boyfriend.”

The bluntness of her words takes even me by surprise. Her American accent makes everything sound so much sharper. Or maybe that’s her teeth. I still can’t stop looking at them.

“Then what is it that you want?” Penelope can’t help but chime in on such a tense moment. I want to shake my head at her but don’t.

“I’m so glad you asked!” she genuinely does look happy about it, teeth back to normal. “Oh, and I think I have something of yours.” She starts digging through her back pockets holds something in her hand. “You’re the mage with the amethyst, right?”

“Yes?” Penny answers, even if she’s unsure that she should have.

“I believe this belongs to you. Here.” The woman’s tail adjust her balance as she tosses something metallic in the air. (I wonder if mine does that.)

When Penny catches it and opens her palm, her jaw drops.

“It’s my ring”, she says, and starts grabbing for her stone in her pocket to push it back into place.

“Margaret sends her regards. Not nice ones, but that’s besides the point.” Her voice is so nonchalant that I feel like I shouldn’t have a reason to be worried, or offended.

“But back to answering your question”, the woman starts back up. “What am I doing here? Well, I’m here to help, duh.”

We’re all stunned, and confused, about the “duh”.

She clears her throat and straightens like she’s about to gives a king’s speech. She look directly at my eyes, and that’s when I notice the pale green in hers- obviously not human. They look like predator’s eyes, or a cat’s.

“I’m here for Red.” She nods as a gesture towards me. “You’ve been away from home for quite some time, haven’t you kitten?”

“I don’t understand.” It’s the first thing I’ve said since swearing.

“You’re our kin, Red. I know what you told Margaret before, but if those wings were made of magic, then they would have been gone with the rest of it when you gave it up. Hella cool of you, by the way.”

Baz is standing beside me now, and I can see from the corner of my eye as he and Penny look at each other- his brow raised as she mouths “ _hella?_ ” at him. He gives a small shrug in response.

We all startle- all except the dragon lady- when the door flies open.

“ _Jesus_ , that’s way too many stairs! I can’t believe-” Shepard freezes when he sees the purple wings in the middle of the room. “ _Scout_?”

“ _Shep_!” she cheers, and with one big flap of her wings she leaps over to him in one movement and wraps him in a hug. Then steps back and hits him on the arm. “I’m still mad at you! You came to the mountain and didn’t even ask to see me? You broke my heart, Shepard.”

She makes pouty lips at him and he laughs. Penny looks wildly uncomfortable about it all.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that! I thought you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you up. You’d probably eat me.”

“That’s fair”, she concedes. “It was too hot to sleep, anyway. It’s always fucking hot, now a days.”

Shepherd nods in agreement and then finally asks, “So, what are you doing here in Europe?”

She turns around to point at me. “I’m here to take the kitten under my wing. Our clan is waiting for us back at the mountain.”

“What do you mean ‘waiting’?” Baz interrupts, he has to slur the words out through his fangs that are still dropped.

“Simon? Simon’s not a dragon, Margaret even said so”, Shep explains.

“Oh yes he is”, Scout counters in a friendly tone. “We think him slipping by Margaret was a use of his Defenses, but that’s a discussion for another time.”

She rounds on me, and this time Baz stays beside me instead of stepping in front of me. Her bracelets clink against each other as she reaches out for my hands. Baz growls a little under his breath. If she hears it, she doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Simon”, she says like she’s trying out the sound of it. “If we had known that you were one of us, then I swear we would have found you sooner. We didn’t even know you existed, let alone living in the world of mages.”

She rubs her thumbs over my knuckles, and it shouldn’t feel as soothing as it does.

“I’ve come to bring you back, Simon.”

“ _No…_ ”, Baz whispers out a stutter, like the air had just been taken out of him. Penny is shaking her head and I don’t think she even realizes it.

“I’ve come to take you home.”

**Baz**

No.

_No, no, no._

I didn’t wait for Simon Snow for half a bloody lifetime just to have him taken away from me.

I will fight whatever creature I have to, teeth be damned. I refuse to have this… this _beast_ break into our tower, make farse promises, and sweep him away with a flick of her wings and tail. Snow is gullible, as bloody gullible as it gets, and she’s telling him that he has a family out there, waiting for him. All rainbows and bloody fucking sunshine

How _dare_ she.

She has no idea of the life he’s had to live- I didn’t even know about the life he had to live! Now, she’s telling him that he’s had a family all along?

Well then, where in Crowley’s name were they when he had to grow up in a care home all his life? Where were they when he sacrificed his magic to save our world, and he never was the same again? (He still isn’t.)

She’s still got her filthy hands on Simon’s, and I reached the end of my patience when she arrived.

I could drain her. Dragons aren’t dark creatures, but I could make an exception for this one.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, blood eater”, The woman, Scout, says out of nowhere.

Did I say that bit out loud?

“ _Penelope! Did you ask what they wanted for dinner?_ ” Professor Bunce shouts up from the bottom of the stairwell, even though she’s already walking up them. (A typical Bunce characteristic, I’m certain.)

Penelope is visibly panicking, and I can see the sweat bead on the tops of Shepard’s brow.

I look to Snow, and see that he’s still looking at her. Watching her, as if she were the only star in the night sky.

And she bloody eats it up.

She squeezes onto Simon’s hands again, and I want to cut them off and make her swallow them whole.

“I’ll come back for you, Red”, she tells him with a, regrettably, lovely smile. With straight, human-looking teeth. “I’ll come back and answer all your questions, promise.”

She gives his hand one last squeeze, and is out the window in two bounds across the room. The turbulence from her wings making all of our hair fly every which way.

Professor Bunce is in the room moments later. Giving us an ultimatum on dinner, but I’m not listening.

I’m watching Simon, who’s gazing out the open window like he’s just sent a dove off with a letter to his beloved. I don’t know if he’s ever looked at me like that.

I refuse to have Simon Snow taken from me.

But what am I supposed to do if he wants to leave?

**Simon**

I feel like I could fly into space, right now.

I don’t think I’ll ever try, but with the mood I’m in, I feel like I could.

I’m stuffed full of every type of Ramen I could pronounce, and then some more that Baz had to pronounce for me. I’m back at Watford, which I wasn’t happy about at first, but now I feel like I can tap into- I don’t know- _something_ from my magic that’s hidden in our room somewhere.

And there’s someone who looks _exactly_ like me! Well, aside from the colour, and the gender, but that doesn’t really matter, does it?

She, Scout, called me “Great Red”. Like I was someone important. Not _chosen_ , per say, but I don’t think I’d want that, anyway.

I have so many questions. I can’t wait to see her tomorrow.

Baz and I received our belongings at the front gate after dinner, and he basically stomped the entire way back to Mummer’s. He throws his bag down at the foot of his bed, and curls his lip as he combs his hair back with his fingers.

“Alright, darling?”

“Of course I’m not- Wait. What did you just say?” He stills and looks at me with reservation in his eyes.

“I asked if you were alright.”

“No, I mean- you said… Ah, forget it.”

I watch as he seems to decompress himself out of his foul mood. When he’s done pacing the short length of our room, he walks up to me and stands in my space. He doesn’t smell like his posh soap, right now. I press my nose up against his shoulder and breathe him in anyway.

“I miss the way you use to smell” I tell him as I run my fingers in small circles against his stomach in the way he likes. He hums against my hair, and that same feeling I had before goes straight to my cock.

“And how did I smell before, Snow?” He’s nuzzling into my hair. The little space left between us feels charged.

“Cedar and bergamot. It’d linger in the room for hours after you showered.”

His hands are still at his sides in fists, and it makes him look quite silly, until I get that he’s trying to keep from touching me.

I did this to him. Made him think he couldn’t touch me.

I don’t know what changed that day. But, for some reason, being kissed makes me feel like the air was being sucked out of my lungs, like the walls were slowly creeping towards me to box me in. It reminded me of the holes I’d made, the ones that took away the magic. Like the one that made his family move out of Hampshire.

I don’t want to think of that right now. I don’t want to think at all.

So I don’t.

I grab his fists and make them flatten against my sides. I love the way his hands feel, all rough and callused.

He runs his fingers up and down my sides, not going anywhere near the hem of my shirt. His breath is shaky and full of restraint, and when I pull him closer to me I can feel how hard he is. He tries to stifle a moan by biting into his lip.

“Don’t.” It comes out like a command. I think about apologizing, but I don’t. I think it’s because I liked when he follows it.

I reach my thumb up to his mouth, and pull his lip out from under his teeth. I feel the heat of his breath as he sighs against it.

“Don’t be quiet. Let me hear you.”

That does something to him. Something absolutely _delicious_. I want more.

I grab the front of his shirt with both hands and push him back against his wardrobe. The doors rattle violently against his back, I push my hips into his and he shudders, which makes them rattle even more. I fucking love it.

I still need _more_.

I slide my tongue across the seam of his lips, and when he gives me his tongue I suck on it. I have my eyes open so I can watch him, with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth gasping for air. Then my eyes roll in the back of my head when I slot my leg between his thighs and feel his cock twitch against my leg.

I want to make him come. I _will_ make you come.

“Baz?”

“Hmm?” he asks with his lips pressed into a tight line.

I grab his hair by the roots at the back of his head and make his eyes meet mine.

“I thought I told you not to be quiet?” I wedge a finger between his lips and he opens for me. I run it over the few bottom teeth, making sure to move around the ones that harbor his fangs. Then I move it to rest on top of his tongue. “So disobedient, Pitch.”

I don’t know why I call him by his last name, or use the word “disobedient”- but I’m obsessed with the reaction it gives me. I’m not stopping.

“Looks like I’ll have to keep my finger here to make sure you behave.”

He starts panting around my finger, and open-mouth whimpers when I rub my leg hard against his cock. I start rolling my hips against his thigh, and I feel myself getting wet inside my pants.

“ _Fuck_ , it’s always so good with you.” Now, I’m whimpering against his neck, and I catch sight of the wall behind his wardrobe.

I swear that it shimmers in that way I remember coming from myself, and I reach out for it. When my fingertips brush against it, I feel that familiar heat sear up through my veins and burn into my core. The smell of smoke assaulting my senses.

“ _Oh fuck_ , Simon!” he cries out around my finger when I drive my hips against his, and I know he can feel my magic, too. My wings shudder when I think about how much better it’d feel if we were naked.

“You can feel it, can’t you? You can feel me pushing it through you.” I don’t even know I’m the one talking until I realize it’s my voice. “I’m going to make you come with my magic.”

Baz’s arches off the wardrobe so hard he nearly smacks the back of his head against it. He keeps moaning my name with his low, raspy voice, and it’s driving me fucking mad. I slide my finger further back into his throat, then- out of an impulse- lick the saliva rolling down the corner of his mouth and he gasps. I pull my finger out of his mouth, and I get wet at the look of disappointment he makes upon losing it.

In the heat of watching Baz’s wanton expressions, I accidentally kick over a small toiletries bag of his that fell to the ground when he threw them on the bed. A designer bottle rolls out and stops when it hits my foot.

I smile at a most wicked thought.

“ _Crowley_ , Snow! You can’t look at me like that and then just stop!” His breaths come out ragged with each word. I could come to that alone if he kept going, but not tonight.

I let this more than mischievous grin bore into him before I slide my hands down his body, grazing his cock (which is harder than fucking stone), and drop to my knees. He keens at my touch when I rub back up his length with the heel of my hand, then grab his soap bottle and stand back up.

“Great fucking snakes, you’re going to kill me. I’m going to come from just being teased, and then it will kill me.”

I pull my hand back and his hips try to follow. I use the same hand to pin him back into the wardrobe.

“Don’t you dare.” The chuckle I emit surprises us both with just how vicious it sounds. “You’re not allowed to come, yet.” I can feel my precum soaking through my trousers at his reaction. “I’ve an idea, first.”

I toss his soap bottle up in the air and catch it with the same hand. He’s so distracted by the bottle that he doesn’t notice my tail float up to his trousers and yank open the first few snaps. He starts breathing like he’s just come up for air for the rest time.

“Take off your clothes” I command as the spade of my tail creeps under his shirt and up towards his neck. I hook it above the first button, and let it rip it all the way down the middle. Buttons go flying and he wants to be mad, but he wants me more. And I’m wicked enough, right now, to see how far we can take this.

“I’m no where _near_ finished with you, yet.”


	3. I'm Disturbed, Aren't I?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why am I doing this?
> 
> Why do I want this?
> 
> I hear only those two thoughts in my mind before I shut it down completely. I don’t know the answer to either of them, and I really don’t care. All I know is I want this, and I want it badly.
> 
> I’ve got a hold of his cock and, my God, is he hard. I want to drag every drip of cum from him that I can, but first I want something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, said steaminess will commence this chapter. 
> 
> Please forgive any spelling/grammar errors, I don't have a good excuse except for the fact that I have poor self-discipline.

**Baz**

I knew Simon Snow would kill me one day, I just didn’t think it was going to be from orgasm denial.

I wonder how autopsy would try to explain that to my family.

“Baz.” Simon’s fisted his hands into my collar so that there’s no way I could move away from him. (I could, actually. But I really, _really_ don’t want to.) He’s got a voice that holds more confidence now than he ever had in all the years I’ve known him. “I remember specifically telling you to take off your clothes. Or should I go ahead and rip apart the rest of them for you?”

He’s got something malicious in his smile, and damn if it’s not going to get me off just by looking at it. This room makes me want to go back to my old habits- push Snow until he starts putting his hands on me.

“Do what you like”, I add a sneer for old time’s sake. “This isn’t my favorite shirt.”

A glint, or a spark, something in the way his eyes just flash at me still doesn’t give me enough time to prepare for the way he grabs and slams me back against the wall, dropping the bottle on the floor. He closes his eyes and flattens his hands on my chest, then slides them up my shoulder, my neck, then up against the wall behind me. I can smell the smoke as soon as he makes contact, and he hisses when he starts drawing it in. When he opens his eyes, he’s ravenous.

He grabs my collar and pulls it in opposite directions until it tears straight down the back as easily as a sheet of paper, discarding it to the floor as if it were, indeed, just a torn sheet of paper.

His wings are nearly vibrating as he gets his hands on the snaps of my trousers, thank Merlin he spares those. However, my pants don’t look like they’ll be as lucky. He drops down to his knees with a heavy thud, and starts kissing the skin just above the waistband.

I can’t help it, my hands reach to run through his curls, but his tail intercepts them by the wrists, binds itself around them, then pushes them against my chest.

“Mmm, I quite like the way that looks on you”, he says looking up from the floor. “We’ll need to experiment with that more next time.”

Fucking _Crowley_ , did he just say, “next time”? I’m going to combust at the thought of this happening again. Even if it’s just once more.

And it takes every ounce of self-control not to combust when he grabs my pants by the waistband with his teeth and pulls while pushing me back into the wall. They rip even easier than the shirt, and he throws them aside, as well. I’m starting to drip onto the floor.

“God, your body is a force to be reckoned with”, he swears like a Normal. I secretly love it when he does that. I have no shame when I whine loudly at his tongue dragging up my body, it grazes over one of my nipples and my cock twitches. It’s agony when he’s touching everywhere else on my body except there.

I gasp when he walks away, leaving traces of his heat on my skin that’s going cold. He leans down to grab the bottle back up from the floor, then juts his chin towards our ensuite bathroom. He starts pulling the shirt off his back as he walks past me on his way there.

I waste no time following him in, and once I’m inside, he slams the door behind me and pushes me back against the door. He’s shirtless and the button on his trousers is undone, making them sit deliciously low on his hips. His tawny skin looks golden, like him doing this to me is bringing him back to life.

If this is how I get Simon Snow back, then let it be so. Then maybe I won’t die a virgin.

He’s kissing me, sucking on my bottom lip, when he starts pulling my hands behind my back. I feel his tail crawl up my leg, and I nearly think he’s going to be doing something entirely different with it until his brushes against my hands behind my back.

“Can I?”

“You _may_.” He hates when I correct him, and I moan at the way he growls into my ear and winds his tail around my wrist. His wings shiver when he steps back to look at me, and his eyes devour every centimeter of my body. I see a wet spot start to form at the top of his pants.

“Now,” he starts, with a voice an octave lower than his usual, “I’m going to take these off very, _very_ slowly. And you’re going to watch, and if you even _think_ about trying to touch me, then I’ll start all over.”

I sob out a laugh that’s almost as desperate as I am, and he’s making it worse when he steps back up to me, so close I could reach my tongue out and lick his lips without moving my head. I hear him pull down his zip, and his knuckles barely brush against the hair on my lower stomach. My hips try to follow him and he moves away.

“How defiant you are” he chides playfully. “We’ll have to fix that now, won’t we?” He zips up his trousers, rebuttons, and then moves in even closer to me. “Next time I’ll just have to grab my shirt.”

“Fuck, Snow, I’m going to die!” I whine, embarrassingly. He gasps at the sound of it and I imagine a drop of precum bead up at his slit. Within a fraction of a second, his hand is on my throat.

“Then tell me you’ll be a good boy. And do what you’re told.” He runs his hand up the back of my head and grabs the hair there, pulling my head back and biting my neck with no restraint.

“Ah- _fuck_! Yes! Yes, I’ll be good. I swear it!”

He chuckles in that villainous way that makes me hard. (If I get any harder, I’m certain I’ll collapse.)

He nips up my neck and grazes his teeth across my jawline. “You’re mine, Pitch. All mine.”

“Yours”, I assure him. “Always yours.”

He abandons his plan to torture me with the continent’s slowest strip tease, and instead shucks off every thread of clothing he had left at lightening speed. He turns on the water and pulls me into the shower with him, not even bothering to let it warm up.

“Crowley, Simon! That’s freezing!” The intensity of our sexual tension eases a bit when we both start laughing. His eyes soften and he runs his thumb under my bottom lip to the corner of my mouth.

“I love it when you laugh. I feel like I haven’t heard it for so long.”

His smile starts to fade, and I lean my forehead to rest against his.

“Believe me when I say I’ll never be happy anywhere without you. Please?”

He thinks a moment and worries his lip. “Even if I get off to the way you look tied up and helpless?”

I’m startled, only because he actually said it out loud, but I don’t think he notices. “I’ve actually been waiting for you to make good on that since we got in here.”

He breathes deep through clenched teeth, and I know I’ve brought him back when he drags a fingernail over the line on my hip. He’s panting, but still holding back, so I decide to be bold.

I walk back from him, his face twisting in worry, but it immediately changes when I press my back against the tile wall, wrapping my arms behind me and holding them at the elbows.

“I’m yours.” _Forever_ , I want to say, but don’t.

He’s on me in seconds, pressing me painfully against the wall and kisses me, but I can’t even focus on the way the grout scraps against my wrist when he grabs hold of my cock and squeezes hard.

“ _Mine_ ”, then he pulls slowly.

**Simon**

_Why am I doing this?_

_Why do I want this?_

I hear only those two thoughts in my mind before I shut it down completely. I don’t know the answer to either of them, and I really don’t care. All I know is I want this, and I want it _badly_.

I’ve got a hold of his cock and, my God, is he hard. I want to drag every drip of cum from him that I can, but first I want something else.

“I’ve missed the way you smelled”, I say as I grab his ridiculous-looking soap bottle from the ledge. He chokes on a sob when I let go, and watches me, with his teeth dug into his bottom lip, as I squeeze the soap into my hands and rub them together.

When it starts to get sudsy, I rub my hands over his chest, his stomach (which is fucking _fit as fuck_ ), then make my way back down to his cock. He cries out and I moan at the sound of it.

“ _Yes_. Fuck, Baz, _yes_. Say my name.”

He does what he’s told, and I’m absolutely aching between my thighs. I have to put a hand on the wall behind him to steady myself, and that’s when I feel it, again. I grin against his skin.

“I’m going to make you see stars, Pitch”, and I push.

His mouth drops open in a silent scream when I push whatever I’m pulling from the room into his body. He starts laughing, and keening, and he’s so close.

“Simon, wait! I’m- _I’m_ -!” I push even more as I stroke him, and he comes so hard that his back contorts off the wall. But he’s still so incredibly hard.

“ _Don’t stop_!” he screams, and I bring my hips closer so that I can grab us both in my hand and stroke us off with his cum.

Now I can feel my magic shimmering on my skin, then I look and see it shimmering on his skin and the sight of it covering his beautiful, beautiful body is almost my undoing.

I kiss him so hard that our teeth thrash against each other, but I can’t stop and neither can he. He’s still got his hands behind his back, so I grab one to give him permission to touch me.

It’s gentle and careful, and the moment he scratches his fingernails up my hair is when I come. His voice keeps getting higher and higher, and his legs are shaking. I want to keep him on the edge just a moment longer, but his knees feel like they’re going to buckle.

He’s barely breathing when he comes again, and cries out when I try to pump once more, he’s become too sensitive. I apologize and gently kiss him, wrapping my arms around his waist and his around my neck.

When we finish up our shower, he tells me he’s fantasized about us sharing a bed. I offer to move the furniture around and push our beds together, but he says he just wants my bed, so we squeeze together so tight that not one inch of us is not touching each other. Wearing nothing but pants we pulled from our bags.

I brace myself for that claustrophobic feeling, but it never comes. I envelop him with my arms and legs and he pretends to hate it, even though he rests his head on my chest.

“I’m sick, aren’t I?” I don’t think I mean to say it out loud, but it’s the first thought that pops into my head when I think about the way he turned me on with his hands behind his back.

“If so, then I wish everyone were as sick as you, Snow”, he whispers into my ear.

We laugh, and get hit with a wave of exhaustion. Our bodies so entirely spent, we don’t even have enough energy to kiss goodnight.


	4. Can You Teach Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her skin is tan, but not like Penny's. Scout’s is from the sun. I wonder if she’s ever tried to fly close to the sun.
> 
> “Never. Haven’t you ever heard the story of Icarus?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaaahhhh, so this is kinda short. Smut will ensue next chapter. Why? Because I'm a bad, bad person *shoulder shrug emoji*

**Simon**

“Well, well, well!” I hear someone sing from somewhere in the room. I’m still out of sorts from being woken up so abruptly. I realize the voice is coming from the window. Someone spelled it whole again, not sure who are when, though.

“Scout?” I grumble. Baz does, too, but his doesn’t sound like it’s just from being groggy.

“Looks like _somebody_ had a good time last night.”

I raise myself on my elbow and see her sitting on the windowsill, her legs crossed like the loveliest lady. She winks at me when I meet her eye.

She actually is quite lovely, the more I look at her. Her hair is almost distracting with how shiny it is, like liquid molten silver. I didn’t notice before, but the way she’s sitting shows off the long, strong length of her legs. She’s not exactly slender, but she’s not curvy, either. I’m not sure what to call it.

Her skin is tan, but not like Penny. Scout’s is from the sun. I wonder if she’s ever tried to fly close to the sun.

“Never. Haven’t you ever heard the story of Icarus?” She hops down from the windowsill and strides across the room until she gets to my desk. I’m not sure what she’s looking for.

She looks me in the eye, again, and the pale green color of them glint in the morning sunlight. I feel the corner of my lips curve when she smiles. I don’t think anyone has ever smiled at me like that.

I like it.

“You can stop pretending to sleep now, blood eater”, she says nonchalantly.

Baz sighs, annoyed. “Why are you here? You’re aware there’s a door, correct?”

“Yes. I am.” She clips out. The speed of which she changes from light-hearted to intense gives me whiplash. She switches back almost immediately. “And why would I use a door when there’s a perfectly good window left open? Plus, using the door means taking the stairs, and I’m not a fan of stairs.”

I guess I never noticed how hard the r’s are in an American accent. It’s almost like a growl.

And then something hits me.

“Why did you bring up Icarus?”

She’s back at the window, leaning against the ledge to feel the wind on her face. The sun sets her hair on fire.

“Because you asked if I’ve ever flown close to the sun.”

Baz sits up, intrigued. And also offended, it looks like. “Not aloud, he didn’t.”

“No”, she turns her head to look at me. Just me. She pretends like Baz wasn’t the one who asked. “You didn’t, did you?”

She’s waiting for me to come up with something. I know she is. I wonder if she knows how thick I can be.

The assumption I have is right mad, but this is the magickal world, and she is a dragon. Can’t be that mad, can it?

“Can you… can you read minds?”

“Bingo!” she praises, and ruffles my hair.

Baz wrinkles his nose at her openly in disgust. “Again. Why are you here?”

She does it again, pretends like he’s not the one asking the question. “Well, to take you flying, of course!” She practically skips to the bedside and pulls at my hand. “So, up and at ‘em! Morning is the best time for flying, especially over a wooded area like this.”

“You want to fly over the Wood?” I bloody fucking hate the Wavering Wood.

“Oh, c’mon. It can’t be that bad! The woodland creatures won’t do a thing when you’ve got your wings out.”

And I can’t believe I don’t see it until now, but Baz beats me to it.

“Where are your wings?” he almost gasps the same time he asks her. He’s given up on trying to avoid her, now.

She smiles at him. (I almost expect for the razor teeth to come out, but they’re just normal ones.) “Retracted. Which reminds me- Why aren’t yours, Simon? That’s got to be super uncomfortable.”

I like the way she says it, my name. “ _Sye-men_ ” None of her vowels are rounded, and I find it strangely alluring.

“I- I…” I’m having a hard time coming up with the words. I’m not very good with words.

Her face falls, and something singes in my chest at the look of it.

“You don’t know how, do you?”

I look down to the bed sheets and shake my head no. Baz brings his hand up to my arm and squeezes. When I dare to look back up at her, she’s looking at me full of sorrow, and even though I know so little about her, it doesn’t seem like her at all. I want to fix it.

“Can you teach me how?” I almost have to choke it out.

She moves closer to me, and leans down until we’re at eye level. I hear her bracelets clang together when she moves her hand to brush a loose curl off my forehead. “Of course I can, Simon.”

Baz stiffens at my side, and his fingers get tighter around my arm. I have to pull it away from him because it starts to hurt. I feel bad when he looks confused afterwards.

“But first,” she says, back to her cheery self as she jumps back up to her full height. “You need to get out of bed, or else I won’t be able to teach you anything!”

She looks through one of my bags and pulls out a t-shirt and trackies. (Thank magic it was my bag and not Baz’s.) (Why do American’s not have boundaries? I thought that was just a Shep thing.)

She throws them at me and bounds back to the window, sitting on the windowsill with her back to the scenery like she was when I first woke up. “Meet me at the gate, yeah?”

I nod, both in confusion and agreement.

“Super! See you soon.” She winks, and then falls backwards out of the window, _on purpose_! Like a scuba diver dives backwards out of a boat.

I leap out of bed just in time to see her wings burst from between her shoulder blades, and she glides gracefully around the tower until she’s out of view.

“Please tell me she landed in the moat”, Baz deadpans.

“She just… her wings! They…” I can’t put it into words. I don’t think anyone can.

“Use your words, Snow.” I hear his feet pad down onto the floor. Mine are nearly off the ground because I’m leaning so far out of the window.

“She- she’s _beautiful_.”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

_What have I done?_


	5. “Yes, Sir.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Simon let’s something slip that he regrets, he tries to make up for it the only way he knows how to, now. (Spoiler: it’s with his “downstairs”.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the smut ensue!  
> Just a reminder, nothing of mine is beta’d or really edited. It’s something I’m working on. Just, like, not at the moment, or any moments in the future. It’s a process, don’t judge me.  
> Anywho... 3, 2, 1, SMUT!

**Baz**

“She’s _beautiful_ ”, he says.

He might as well have ripped my lungs out of my chest and thrown them to the merwolves.

“What.” It comes out sounding thick with jealousy. (Because I bloody well am!) It’s not a question. I heard what he said.

“Baz… I-”

He acts like he’s going to walk towards me, like he’s going to wrap his arms around me and call me darling, again. (I thought Simon Snow would never call me darling.)

Instead, he pulls on a fistful of curls. He only has them on top of his head, now. He got a haircut in Vegas. I love it, actually.

The morning sun is casting a shadow against him, and I can’t see the constellations on his body that I’ve mapped out in fifth year. I need to see them.

I need to see _him_.

I grab his hand and pull him away from the window. Into me. (Because I’m weak.)

He goes still, and I drop it. His hand is still open in the air where I left it, and I have to mentally scream at every muscle in my body to not reach for it. I just need to wait.

It’s excruciating.

He just stands there and stares at me. I almost want to wave a hand in front of his face to ensure that he’s still functioning. You never know with Snow.

I give up, and sigh as I walk over to my bags on my bed (that I didn’t sleep in last night) and start putting on my shirt. Before I can start buttoning the front, I feel his hand on my back.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is low and quiet, and it makes a frost spread down my spine.

“Nothing, Snow. Can I finish putting on my shirt now?” It comes out more menacing than I’d like, so I try to turn around to face him but he grabs my arms.

“Don’t”, he says just as quietly. “Just. Please? Let me have this?”

_Let you have what, Simon? My heart? My soul? My body? I’d give them to you if they weren’t already yours._

He starts running his hands up the expanse of my bare stomach, and I feel his forehead rest on the back of my neck. I tilt my head back to rest on his and he lets me.

The familiar radiating energy from the walls starts buzzing again, but the stronger it gets, the bolder he becomes. He starts breathing me in like I’m oxygen itself, and starts pulling my shirt off my shoulders. I go to shrug it off completely but he stops me, letting it stay twisted around my wrist, keeping my hands behind my back.

He growls, and it’s so deep that it sounds like it’s resonating from his sternum. The vibration of it on my back causes a sound to escape me. He hums in approval at it and lets his hands rest on my waistband. His pinky finger dips just under it, and it causes me to writhe back against him. He gasps, and that’s when it starts.

It’s different from last time, it’s not playful or teasing. He’s carnal, and animalistic.

He growls again and spins me around so fast I nearly topple over, and then I _do_ topple over, back onto my bed. I’m agile enough to stay sitting up, but it doesn’t matter- Simon puts a hand on my chest and pushes me all the way flat on my back. I’m laying uncomfortably on my bound hands, but I don’t really have time to think about that when he yanks down my pants, pulls them off and casts them aside.

His hands slide back up my legs, up my thighs, and then on my hips, then pulls on me harshly to bring my pelvis closer to him as he looks down on me with a jutted-out chin.

Oh, Crowley. Is this how Simon Snow takes my virginity?

I’m disappointed and relieved at the same time when he drops down to his knees. He doesn’t tease me, or build up to it- he just pulls my hard cock into his mouth and sucks.

“Oh, _fuck_. Simon-” I shift onto my elbows so I can watch him. His hand pushes me flat onto my back, again.

“Down”, he commands after pulling off me with a debauched pop. The low, gravelly sound of his voice does something to me and I whimper. It turns into a gasp when he takes me back in and I hit the back of his throat.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , I’m gonna come.” It sounds like I’m begging, I am begging. It doesn’t do me any good.

He stops.

“Not yet, you aren’t.” He’s still got his hand strong on my chest. I could sit up against his wishes, I’m stronger than he is, but I don’t want to lose this.

I don’t want to lose him.

I always lose.

The sound of the magic in our room is starting to make my ears ring. I wonder if Simon can hear it or if it’s just because of my heightened senses. I know he can feel it, his skin grows hotter by the second. It’s making me sweat (amongst other things).

He’s just teasing me, now. Sucking on the skin inside my thighs, trying to leave marks but I heal all too quickly.

I wish he could mark me.

I wish he could do a lot of things to me.

He becomes frustrated with the lack of results he’s getting, and actually _bites_ my inner thigh so hard that I yelp. The ringing in my ears stops, and so does the climbing temperature of Simon’s body.

“I- I’m sorry!” He’s starting to bluster, and his shame starts to eat a hole in my chest.

“Please…” I beg him when I sit up. He finally looks at me.

I don’t know how to ask him, or tell him what I want. Not when he’s like this. So when he stands, I drop to my knees in front of him before he can walk away. He stands in front of me and hisses through his teeth- my hands are still bound behind my back with my shirt, he still very much enjoys that.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

But when I place a kiss on the strain against his trousers, he growls. The sound is deeper than any of the ones before. It’s not human.

He grabs my hair at the roots and wretches my head back to look at him. And that’s when I see it…

His plain, unordinary blue eyes are glowing, turning them into a shade of turquoise that could burn through me. They’re already burning through me. His pupils start to slip into thin, vertical lines.

I should be scared. Fuck, I should be _terrified_. But the only thing I feel is my pre-cum dripping down my shaft and onto the floor.

There’s so much of my DNA in this room since last night that it could very well be classified as a crime scene.

“Suck me off, Pitch”, Simon commands, and once he unzips and pulls down his trousers and pants enough to spring his cock free, I do.

I can’t fit him entirely in my mouth, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try. I gag a few times- I’m embarrassed at first when it happens, but then I feel his cock twitch against my tongue and I don’t let up.

“Yes, that’s it. Good boy.”

I moan around him, and he tips his head back at the vibration I send through his body.

“ _Ah_. Fuck, Baz.”

The way he’s talking is causing my legs quiver. _By the love of Magic, please don’t let me come, yet_ \- I think to myself.

“ _Mmm_. You love this don’t you? You’re so thirsty for my dick, I can feel it in the way you swallow me down. _God, yes_.”

I gag on him again and he’s almost at his limit. I can feel the way he’s tightening in my mouth. So I hollow out my cheeks and suck like his life depends on it. He’s practically roaring with pleasure.

“Yes! Ah, _fuck_! Take it. Take it for me, darling.”

I used to think Simon Snow was never going to call me darling.

I comply to his command and take him in completely. It almost feels like I can’t breathe, but I manage. I feel tears start to streak down my face, but I don’t really know why.

But then I think he means to take something else… that something being the magic he’s pulling off the room and pushing into me through the hand he has gripped in my hair.

The electricity of it makes the hair on my arms stand like static, and then lightening is shooting through my veins and down to my cock.

“I want you to come like this, Baz”, he tells me with that low, gravelly voice I’ve become addicted to. “I want you to come with the feeling of me running inside your entire body. I want it to make you scream.”

His words are getting us both even hotter, and when I moan obscenely around his cock, he comes down my throat. I drink every drop of him down like a lifeline.

Once I suck him through the after shocks of his orgasm, he drops to his knees in front of me. His hand still has a tight fistful of my hair, and once I meet his radiating blue, cat eyes, I’m done for.

He pushes so much magic into me I can smell the smoke inside my sinuses.

He moves as close as he possibly can to me, bracketing his knees around mine. My cocks is inches away from his pelvis. My body involuntarily thrust forward, begging for the contact.

“Shhh, darling. I’ll give you what you want, but you have to be good. Can you be good for me?”

“Yes. Yes I swear it!” I whine desperately. I’ve been on the edge for what seems like hours, and the only reason I haven’t collapsed is because Simon’s magic won’t let me.

“Say ‘yes, sir’”

His eyes are hungry and demanding. I’m fucking reveling in it. His wings start to rustle behind him.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be good.”

That’s when his tail slides between his legs and wraps around my right thigh. It pulls me flush against him, and I’m so close I feel like I could die.

I wouldn’t mind dying this way. Not in the slightest.

“Ready?” He asks, but really it’s just another way to tease me. His grin grows with each sob I choke out.

I nod, desperately.

“Say it.” His eyes are blue fire, and I swear I see a fang press over his bottom lip.

“Yes, sir.”

He smiles, and he’s got a maw of knives that makes me go weak.

A serpent’s tongue rolls out between them and licks his middle finger, then I feel him press it against my hole.

I come immediately between our stomach. We both cry out at the burn of it from his magic on our skin.

I collapse, only to be caught by Simon. He lowers us both down onto our sides to the floor. The cold wood making me shiver.

He takes the shirt that’s bound around my hands off, and uses it clean us both off. There’s still a little on his stomach, a drop below his belly button. I nearly black out when he takes his finger and swipes it up, then licks it off like left over sugar.

He grabs the blanket off his bed and covers us both. I go to reach for my pillow, but he pulls me into him and I rest my head on his chest, instead.

He twists my hair around his fingers as I fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there.  
> Thank you for reading, and please feel free to leave comments or feedback (be gentle, I’m a sensitive soul).  
> I write fan fiction as a sort of exercise that I can bring to my original WIPs, so anything helps! Thanks again!


	6. Understood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I apologize for my impromptu hiatus. In my defense, we (Mr. hayyy and I with our 2 fur-sons) just moved to a new state and have been getting settled, and I've been hit with inspiration for my original novel, which I was struggling with for the past month, and took advantage.  
> I have so missed writing this fic, though. And with a little motivation from the comments, worked in another short chapter.  
> I'm planning on making these chapters a little longer (it reflects my writing style), but I understand that it's not very fun to get a short chapter, just to wait on another short chapter.
> 
> Again, please leave any feedback you feel would be helpful! I write fics as a writing exercise and it's always so motivating to read your comments <3  
> Disclaimer: Lack of smut, but trust me- smut is coming. *snickers at unintentional pun*

**Simon**

I’m disturbed.

I mean, I have to be, right?

I just scorched Baz from the inside out to make him come, and I feel disgusted with myself about it. As I very well should!

He fell asleep right after he finished, we didn’t even make it to either of our beds. Just strung out on our floor.

He’s asleep on my chest, but I have to leave soon, so I pick him up (despite me being broader than he is, Baz is still stupid fucking heavy) and set him on his bed. I pull the blanket from the floor and cover him up.

I’m about to leave when I think about how I should probably write a note. But I don’t really have the time. Scout is waiting for me.

I grab for the door handle when I hear the hinges of the window creak. (I thought Penny fixed that our last year here?)

As I go to shut it, I replay Scout in my head- purposefully flinging herself out backwards and catching the air with her wings mid-fall. It was wicked.

I think about trying it, but I can’t hide my wings like she can. Then I remember she’s going to teach me how, and a vaguely familiar feeling blooms in my chest. It reminds me of how I felt after we escaped the Ren Faire in America, after slaying those cosplay (who were also real) vampires.

I hoist myself up onto the sill, and panic when it squeals under my weight and I begin to tip out. Then I think about how ridiculous that is since I can bloody fly. Crikey, I’m thick.

Baz is still out cold in his bed, he hasn’t moved an inch since I’ve put him there. I stare at him a moment longer before jumping back down into our room and kissing him on the forehead. I really need to get going. I’m so late, I wonder if Scout is even waiting for me any longer.

I don’t think, just get a running start, put as much weight forward as I can when I lunge my foot onto the windowsill, and push off out through the window.

I get that airborne feeling, like when you accidentally miss a step going down the stairs. Then my wings catch, and I close my eyes and let myself glide for a moment before coming back to myself.

The sky is always so quiet, it’s wonderful.

It’s just me and the wind. Birds don’t come that close to me, probably for the best.

I round the tower and fly over the grounds. There isn’t anyone here other than Penny’s mother, who stays in the Weeping Tower’s rooms, and ourselves. And Scout, I suppose.

“ _Simon!_ ” I hear her American accent ring, though muffled, through my ears. I hear it again and see her flying next to me. I start laughing uncontrollably- I’ve never been up here with anyone before. Not this high.

She gestures for me to follow her with a nod of her head to the left, then starts to spiral down from the atmosphere. I mimic her, like we’re playing some sort of flying creature follow-the-leader.

The late-morning sky is English pale blue and endless. I never usually look down, but I lost track of Scout and have to look around to find her. She’s about half a mile below me, and I notice that we’re flying over the Wood. I recognize it by the trees that grow leaves a much darker shade of green than any I’ve ever seen.

Fuck the Wavering Wood.

And now she’s landing in a clearing within it. Fuck.

I dive down, then pull back up at the right moment to hover before I land with a loud thump in the grass.

“Jesus. Do you always land that rough?” she asks, genuinely surprised.

“You swear like a Normal?” I’m not ignoring her question, I’m just really curious.

“Uh, I guess? Do you cuss differently?”

“Well… yeah. I mean, sometimes I swear like a Normal, but that’s because I picked it up from being raised in care homes.”

Her face falls like someone has just stabbed her in the gut. I want to walk over to her. Apologize, or something. I don’t even know what I did wrong, but I’d still tell her sorry for making her feel this way.

She walks over to me first. Even the way she walks is graceful- she moves svelte over the clovers and the fairy dust that floats specks of gold just above the blades of grass. I just now notice she’s barefoot.

She stands mere inches away from me. I can feel the heat from her body, but it’s not enough to distract me from the way her face is contorted into something that twists the air in my lungs.

“Simon”, she says seriously. I don think I’ll ever get used to the way she says my name. “Did… did you grow up in an orphanage?”

“Yeah”, I answer blatantly. I forget that not everyone knows I grew up with Normals. “I was left there as a baby. My name was written on my arm.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust, and she whips her head away from me. I grab her arm.

“Wait! I’m sorry.”

“What?” she says with her brows pinched together. “Why are _you_ sorry?”

“For… I dunno, for upsetting you.”

She turns to face me again, and the pressure releases off my sternum. I don’t let go of her arm, yet. I don’t know why, except for the fact that I don’t want to.

“Oh, Simon”, she coos. I don’t think I’ve ever been cooed at before. She places her palm on my cheek, and my entire face goes warm. “You have done nothing wrong. Do you know that? You are not the reason for your unfortunate circumstances. None of that was your fault.”

My eyes start to sting. I swear the dryads up the pollen-count when they know I’m out here. I’ve saved the Wood countless times, but they still don’t like me.

She brushes her thumb over my cheek bone, and I hear myself sigh. Which is dreadfully embarrassing. 

“I wish we could have found you sooner”, she tells me.

“Me too”, and I mean it.

We jerk back when we hear a twig snap in the shadows of the trees. Speaking of dryads…

“What do you seek here Chosen-” the dryad chokes on her words the moment her eyes rest on my wings.

She starts stuttering, but snaps her mouth shut when Scout steps towards her. The dryad visibly shrinks the closer she gets.

“We seek privacy. That’s what.” Scout’s voice is sharp and cold. I feel a shiver trickle down my back.

Also, I really like the way she says _pry-vuh-see_. Everything in the American accent is elongated and over-emphasized. I like it the more I hear it.

“A-apologies, my lady”, the dryad whispers.

“ _My lady_?” What’s she on about?

“So that it doesn’t happen again,” Scout picks up a leaf and starts twirling it by the stem. “Tell your sisters that the dragons claim this clearing. And if I so much as _suspect_ that we’re being watched by anything in this forest…”

Scout takes a deep, open-mouth breath in. When she exhales, she blows it out through puckered lips with a narrow flame, like a blow torch. She ignites the leaf, and it doesn’t even properly catch fire because the moment it makes contact, it evaporates. The dryad yelps, there’s tears in her eyes.

“We'll claim the whole fucking thing. Understood?” Scout clips.

The dryad nods, the rest of her body unmoving. Scout stares her down long enough to make even me uncomfortable.

“ _Boo_ ”, Scout whispers, and the dryad disappears into the trees.

“Wicked”, is all I can say when she looks at me. It makes her smile- it’s very pretty.

“Now,” she says, back to her light and buoyant tone. (I don’t know how on earth she can manage to switch so quickly.) “Let’s work on getting your wings and tail retracted so we can work on some direct combat.”

Merlin, I’m the luckiest man alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else wish Carry On was a webcomic?  
> For those in favor of proposing R.R. with a webcomic idea, say aye!  
> I'm gonna go ahead and throw it out there that I'm addicted to webcomins (and fanfiction)  
> It's fine. I'm fine.  
> Feedback is welcomed! Maybe even throw out something fun you'd like for me to work in. I always love a challenge. (I wrote a quarantine OG piece about a pigeon uprising for my best friend. It was so much fun.)  
> Also, I'm trying to work out an update schedule so that I don't go MIA for I-don't-remember-how-long.  
> Hope you enjoyed!


	7. 1,2,3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Simon and Scout combat train together and there is mention of blood and violence.
> 
> Hooray for Penny and Shep's return! Kinda.  
> For a little bit, anyway.  
> And also a surprise appearance towards the end  
> *gasps for suspenseful effect that doesn't actually add any suspense*  
> Anywho, hope you like!  
> Don't forget to comment and leave kudos because they're fun and boost my ego.  
> But, like, only if you want to. No pressure or anything.  
> Enjoy!

**Penelope**

“Hold still!” My mother commands Shepard, who’s been trying to squirm away from the tip of her wand for the past ten minutes.

“I’m trying! It hurts!”

“Well it’s going to hurt worse if I accidentally blow you up.”

“ _Blow me up_?!” he screeches. I try to hide my laugh with a fake cough. He hears it, anyway. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re enjoying my pain, Penelope.”

I laugh out loud this time.

Over the last 24 hours, Shep has knocked over four stacks of books, two chairs, a tea kettle, and an end table- which consequently had another stack of books on top of it. My mother’s office is a lot like our house, covered in educational debris and chaos. But if you try to move a single thing, she’ll go ballistic, because she knows where everything is when it’s “organized” in this manner.

To my relief, my mother changed the Mage’s office so much that it doesn’t even look like the same room, anymore. Even the door is different. The walls are a deep taupe with walnut-stained wood floors. I’m pretty sure she took one of the rugs from home and brought it here to place under her new desk- it looks ratty enough to be from home. She wanted to get rid of the old desk, but I told her to hold onto it for just a little longer.

“I think it might be good for us to ask Baz if he would like to take it. Since it was his mother’s, you know?” I’d told her.

“Fair point, Penelope”, she said, and now we keep it in her rooms across the corridor. I told her I’d bring Baz by later and see what he says.

“ _Ow! Shit!_ ” Shep yelps as he pulls away from a flash of light and smoke, and backs into a bookcase. It doesn’t have any books. Just piles of notes and maps stuffed into the shelves. Regardless, they come tumbling out.

Mum casts an “ **As you were”** , for the… I don’t even know how many times, at this point.

She grabs his forearm and examines it. “Nothing”, she determines. “Spells might not work with this.”

“I already told you that!” Shep exclaims, rubbing at the twisting black thorns tattooed on his arms. His arms are strong and defined, I never noticed because of the jean jacket.

I take a seat in the leather armchair, next to the only window in the office, and listen to mum’s next course of action. But then there’s a shadow that flickers over the light of the late morning sun, and I have to squint my eyes to see what it is.

Two pairs of wings, attached to two separate bodies, flying across the sky like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Except that it’s not even normal for Simon to have wings, let alone _another_ human-like being. One that was able to get through the wards cast on the gates. One that my mother would not be happy about because they broke through said wards after hunting us down from another continent…

“Oh, hey”, Shep interrupts my thoughts. He leans to look around me and through the window. “Is that Simon and-”

“Yes! It is Simon! And Simon only!” I hint at him loudly, my eyes wide. Thank snakes my mother has her eyes in a book and isn’t even listening to me. That’s been a reoccurring thing she’s done since we got back from America.

The nice thing about Shep is that he can take a hint, the not so nice thing is that he, most of the time, just doesn’t care. I’m glad he takes this one.

“Shepard, would you like a break? I think’s it’s time for a break. See you at tea, mother!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything to me, nor my mother, by the time I’ve grabbed him by the shirt and yank him through the door. I don’t let go until we get outside.

“What was that all about?” he asks, smoothing down the front of his heather grey t-shirt.

“Just so you know, what Simon is, whatever that may be, is not widely accepted in the world of mages. Having two of them, even less so.” I gently put my hands on her shoulders, I don’t want to put too much pressure on them if he’s sore. “We need to keep the girl dragon-”

“Scout”, he corrects me.

“Yes. Right. Scout... We need to keep her under wraps until further notice. Alright?”

“Alright, I get it. But I think your mom would be more understanding than you give her credit for.”

“You obviously do not know my mother. Has her putting you through limitless pain for an entire day told you nothing?”

“Nah, she’s just trying to help.”

“If you say so.”

He shoots me a look after I say that, but gets distracted when we see Simon dive down towards the trees and land somewhere within the Wood.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Shepard asks.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

“ _Yes_! I was hoping you’d say that.” He follows me as I make my way towards the tree line.

I don’t tell him we’re going because I don’t trust Scout.

**Simon**

“Okay, ready?” Scouts asks.

“Um, yes?”

“No, you’re not.”

“How do I know if I am?! Can’t we spar with the tails and wings? I’m used to that.”

She holds my shoulders and looks me in the eye. Her pale green eyes are nearly hypnotic. Why is it that I’m a magical creature, and yet I have just boring blue eyes? Scout gets to have ones the colour of limes, and Baz has the shade of grey you see when a storm starts to swirl over the horizon. Rubbish luck on my part.

“Are you even listening, Red?”

“Yes! Well… no, not really”

She shakes me, and Merlin is she strong. Her plum wings shudder as she does it. “Focus, Simon! Or else We’re never going to get through everything!”

“Everything? What all is there I need to know?”

She grins, and drops her head a bit as she shakes it. “Boy, you have no idea.”

For some reason, I find that exhilarating. She smacks my arm before stepping back into her own space.

“So, _as I was saying_ -”, she continues condescendingly. It’s probably supposed to intimidate me, but I find it funny. “Stop laughing and pay attention! So, anyway, retracting your wings and tail, can be a little… uncomfortable. Especially if you’ve never done it before.”

I would tell her I _have_ done it before, but that was when I had a whole atmosphere’s worth of magic. Does that even count?

She steps behind me and I flinch away.

“Oh, sorry”, she says sincerely. “I should have asked first. Is it okay if I touch your wings? So that you can feel what position they need to be in before you can pull them into your spine.”

“They’re going _inside my spine_?!” I have to turn to look at her face to be sure. And, sure enough, she’s not joking.

“Well, yeah. Where else are they going to go?”

I don’t even know how to begin to answer that.

She’s waiting for me, so I take a deep breath and nod before turning around to give her access to my wings. I feel myself start to go cold.

“Hey,” she says softly. “It’s going to be okay, I’ll be really fast and then step back. Sound good?”

“Yeah”, I answer honestly.

“Okay, here we go. 1, 2, 3.”

She places her hands towards the bottom spikes of my wings, without grabbing, and pushes them close together until they’re over-lapping. She’s right, it is a little uncomfortable, and even more so when she tells me to hold them in place. I feel like I’m flexing a muscle I never knew I had.

“It’s because you are”, she says out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Flexing a muscle. The one, in particular that you need to use to be able to pull them back inside your body. It’s atrophied, but you’re just strong enough to hold it. Just… brace yourself.”

I don’t like the sound of that, exactly.

As I’m holding this position, she starts coaching me through the rest of it. I have to mimic the feeling of pinching my shoulder blade together and relax, which is not easy to do at the same time.

“Fuck, I’m starting to cramp.”

“No you’re not, that’s just how it feels to pull them in.”

“I’m cramping really hard.”

“You’re fine.”

“I’m bloody well not!”

She doesn’t laugh or taunt me. She just keeps telling me to keep going, don’t let up, I’m almost there.

“Now, exhale” she instructs.

I do, and I wasn’t even aware that I was holding my breath that whole time. My upper back is sore and I reach to massage the spot when I feel it…

Nothing.

Nothing is there to get in the way when I wrap my arms back. No spikes, no leather, _nothing_.

“How’s it feel?” Scout asks with a smile.

“It feels… weird.” Because it really does.

She laughs, and then I see her wings pull in behind her and shrink down to disappear. It happens so fast.

“So cool”, I gasp. I didn’t see it happen, but her tail is gone too.

“We’ll get to your tail later. For now, let’s see what you’ve got, Red.”

…

Scout is fucking terrifying in battle.

We’ve been at this for less than half an hour, and she’s landed more hits on me than anything I’ve fought since I was 11. (I got hit a lot when I was 11. The Mage seemed more disappointed than concerned.)

I wrap my tail around her ankle and try to yank back to pull her off her feet, but it backfires almost immediately when she drops her hands to the ground and kicks that same foot back. I jolt forward, right into her uppercut. I feel like a child in a Spartan training camp.

Once I’ve regained my balance, I’m back in my stance, matching her cross-over steps as we circle a round each other, like sharks around chum.

“Not bad, Red”, she genuinely praises- and even that sounds scary. “But you’re giving me too many openings. Remember that attacking you directly is not my only option.”

She’s barely panting while I’m gulping in air by the mouthfuls. I’ve already soaked through my white t-shirt, and also covered it with grass stains and dirt from being knocked on my arse so many times. Thank Merlin for the 5-pack of white v-necks I bought before we got here.

“Well it’s also bloody unfair that you can read my mind”, I complain.

“Hey, now”, she defends, pretending to be wounded, “I would never do such a thing,. Not the entire time, anyway.”

She smiles when I laugh. She stands up, signaling a pause in our spar.

“Look,” she starts on a serious note, “chances are I’m going to be your most difficult opponent, and if I hold back too much, all that’s going to do is make you soft, right? You don’t become the strongest, most feared creature in the magical world by being soft.”

“ _You’re holding back?_ ” My jaw drops. She just, in a round-about way, admitted that she could easily strike me down and kill me if she felt like it.

She giggles like I’ve just flattered her with a compliment. I suppose I did. “Now, c’mon.”

She gets back into stance with a new light in her eye. Like an actual, literal light. Her eyes are glowing and her pupils have turned into slits.

“Let’s go again. This is a good teachable moment on how to _actually_ use your tail in combat.” From behind her back, her tail appears. It’s it was only spelled invisible this whole time.

She barely takes a step forward when I hear a loud crack, and feel something slice open my shirt sleeve, and the skin underneath. The cut, though not that deep, flays open like a gutted fish. I go to put my hand over it to stop the bleeding. She cracks her tail like a whip again, and lashes across my knuckles with the spade of it. The scrape is minor, but bleeds, nonetheless.

“Keep your stance”, she scolds. “Nobody is going to wait for you to stop bleeding. You’ll heal on your own.”

Now I’m really frustrated, it doesn’t help that she’s smiling about it.

So I stop thinking.

I growl and charge towards her. Everything becomes a blur as I start delivering strikes at rapid speed, only to have her deflect every single one. I get too close, make a mistake, and she headbutts me straight in the nose.

I don’t lift my hands to it, but blink my eyes as they start to water, but I do falter when I hear something running through the Wood. Running straight for us.

“ _Simon!_ ” Baz screams as he sprints towards us at an unnatural speed. Scout doesn’t even flinch.

I’m distracted, and rightfully so, but that doesn’t stop Scout from whipping her spade across my left cheekbone. Wet warmth starts to creep down to my chin.

“ **Sod off!** ” Baz casts with so much magic that his voice echoes through the trees. So much magic, that the spell hits both Scout _and_ me.

Scout is barely fazed and only takes a small step back, and she looks like she _chose_ to do that.

I’m not as graceful.

I fly back like a massive explosion just went off in front of me in the movies. I skid backwards on my back for at least two yards before I come to a stop, coughing out the little air I have left in my lungs after getting the wind knocked out of me.

When I stop coughing, I notice that everything has gone quiet. Even the leaves freeze, despite the wind.

I look up, and what I see before me makes the air go right back out of me.

Baz- wand out, fangs dropped, and not a single molecule of fear in his eyes- is squared up to the most petrifying beast I’ve ever seen.

A violet-scaled, neon-eyed, full-grown dragon is stalking directly in front of him. They’re both dead silent, until the dragon makes a loud huff through its nose.

Smoke starts to rise from its nostrils.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh ohhhhh, Baz has gone and done it now.  
> More of Scout's full form to come. As well as Penny and Shep (their lack of attendance will be explained next week)  
> Also, because everyone cares (and by everyone, I mean my author-alter-ego), I actually posted on time.  
> I'd like to thank all the alarms I've set and the large cold-brew coffee for making this possible. Couldn't have done it without you guys.  
> Don't forget to leave comments and kudos if you deem it worthy!  
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Tell Me Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who are keeping up with my fic! It's so cool to see all the subscribes and bookmarks.  
> And a hugggeee thank you to Fogo_Ilse_of_FIRE2121 for betaing for me!

**Penelope**

We’re lost.

I keep getting us un-lost, but then Shepard keeps getting us  _ re _ -lost every time we come anywhere close to something magical. Which just so happens to be  _ everything in the entire fucking wood _ . 

“Look!” he says like I didn’t previously live here for almost eight years. “They look like snowballs with eyebrows! Hi there!” he shouts at them as they start to flee at the sight of him.

“Come.  _ On _ !” I yank him by the sleeves, I think he’s digging his heels into the dirt to keep me from pulling him. It’s like trying to leave the toy shop with my baby sister. 

I use the usual spells to try to find Simon and Scout, but we must be too far away now. 

“Great, now look what you’ve done!” I groan all my frustration out on him.

“ _ Simon! _ ” I hear not far from us.

It’s Baz, and he’s running so fast there’s no way we can catch up with him.

“I…” Shep starts, “am not responsible for what’s about to go down. I just want you to know that-”

“Oh shut up and come one!” I grab his hand and start pulling him, holding my ring up in front of us. “ **Trail of breadcrumbs!** ” A glowing trail of actual breadcrumbs fall in line over Baz’s barely visible footprints. 

Shep starts following the line, and I let out a huff of annoyance when he starts running ahead of me. Fuck, he’s fast.

My eyes are trained on the ground to avoid tripping up on a root, but when I look up, I realize I don’t have to follow the silver trail anymore. Because there’s a giant, unmistakable, purple dragon up ahead, through the trees.

“ _ Scout _ !” Shepard starts shouting. 

Fuuuck me. Is that seriously her? It  _ is _ her- I recognize the wings.

“Scout! Don’t!” Shep keeps yelling. We’re almost to the clearing when smoke starts to churn from the dragon’s nose. Baz is standing in front of her with his wand out.

We finally break through the clearing, or I do, since Shepard already had quite some time ago. With no trees in the way, I see Shepard standing in front of Baz with both his hands up like he’s surrendering. I don’t see Simon right away, until he stands up from a few yards behind the others, covered in dirt and grass stains.

“Now c’mon, Scout”, Shep says in a friendly tone. “These are my friends! You don’t want to eat my friends, do you?”

“ _ Just the one _ ”, we all hear inside all of our heads. She crouches down, making herself eye-level with Baz, just over Shepard’s shoulder.

“He won’t taste good. Maggie says he’s rancid”, Shep continues.

“ _ Puke it up later. Still worth it _ .” There’s a sound that rumbles from her, somewhere deep. It’s low, and I feel her growl vibrate through the ground. “ _ Hurt the kitten. Hurt my kin _ ”, she thunders in our skulls.

“No he didn’t!” Simon calls from further back.

Why does he look so dirty?

“I’m fine! See?” Simon puts his arms out wide and turns, showing her all the mud and grass stains. Is that a cut on his hand? Is that what she’s talking about?

“Baz, what did you do?” I gasp when I get a look at Simon’s cheek and the cut on his shoulder. 

“Fuck off, Bunce! I didn’t do  _ anything _ !” Baz straightens his wand even closer to Scout. Like he’s going to jab her in the snout with it. “I got here in time when  _ you _ -!” he directs at Scout, but she interrupts him with a roar that blows his hair back. 

Shep’s still a step in front of Baz, but stands off more to the side when he realizes that there is no way he’s going to get in between them. Baz hasn’t even flinched.

“ _ You _ started carving him like a fucking turkey!”

She bares her teeth- her incredibly long, razor-sharp teeth- and growls. As horrifying as it is, it doesn’t sound as angry as the one before. Maybe it’s guilt.

“Scout? Please.” Simon steps entirely too close to her mouth full of fangs. “Please don’t hurt him. You can’t hurt him.” Begging, he raises his hand to rest on top of the rippled scales on her snout. She leans into his touch.

“He’s my family, too”, Simon tells her. “And I love him.”

**Baz**

What-

What did he just say?

The dragon looks as stunned as I do. She even narrows her eyes at him, but he just pitifully stares back at her. Still silently asking her not to kill me.

If he didn’t just admit out loud, in front of all these witnesses, that he loves me, I would be fuming about the cuts all over him. The smell of burnt butter crowding my nostrils from his trickling blood. My fangs are still dropped- I want to believe it’s still just out of anger, and not from the scent…

She whips her hands back towards me. I fucking forgot she can read my mind. There’s got to be a spell to block that.

“ _ Good luck, _ ” she tells me in my head. She must have not said it to the others.

_ Fuck you _ , I think back. I hope she heard me.

She’s still staring at me as her scales start to flip over like rows of falling dominos into the color of her skin. Things,  _ bones _ , seem to shift just below the surface of her skin, and the dragon condenses back down into a girl. She walks towards me like she wasn’t just a giant fire-breathing dinosaur ten seconds ago.

She looks like she’s going to walk past, but stops. Jabbing her finger into my chest.

“Bite him,” she says, low and threatening. “And I will  _ incinerate  _ every single cell of your body.”

I push her hand away. “Hurt him again, and I’ll bleed you dry.” I bare my teeth at her.

She huffs at me with a sneer. Like I’ve just told a joke. If she cuts him again, she’s going to find out that nothing I’ve said is a joke. Not when it comes to Simon, the man I love.

And the man who loves me.

**Simon**

It’s been so long since I’ve been in this dining hall. It’s eerie to see it so empty since most everyone is home for the summer. The faint scent from the sandstone walls makes me nostalgic, and I get that feeling I used to get when I knew I was coming back to Watford. Where I had friends, and food, and a purpose.

We all decided it was best to settle down over lunch- or I did anyway. Considering I skipped breakfast this morning without even thinking about it. Something that I don’t do.

Penny sits across from me with Shepard, and Baz takes a seat to my left. He’s been stealing glances in my direction since he arrived through the doors five minutes ago. (I flew, and got here early because I couldn’t stand to wait any longer.)

We sit here awkwardly, and I know myself well enough to not try and break the silence. I’ll just ruin everything with my blustering. I dip my hand under the table to rest on Baz’s knee, hoping he will know what I’m trying to say. I’ve always been better with actions rather than words.

“Hey there, Red!” Scout slides into the seat on my right and startles me so much, my hand flies up and nearly smacks Baz in the chin.

Scout’s back to her happy-go-lucky self again. But there’s something laced within her words, and the way she moves. She swings her arm over my shoulders, like the way friends at the pub do before they break out into some song no one has ever heard. But when she does it, she eyes Baz like she’s ready for him to do something about it. Penny and Shepard look at each other awkwardly because she’s definitely not being subtle.

“See!” she says, brushing a finger across the place where she’d whipped me with her tail. 

A whip, fucking brilliant. Makes so much more sense than wrapping it around someone. I almost got bit by a vampire in America doing that.

“All healed up. I told you it would.” I reach my hand up to my cut, but find there’s no cut at all, just a red mark where it once was.

“What? Let me see.” Baz is on me before he even finishes his sentence, forcing Scout to have to take her arm back. He moves my fingers away so he can graze his over the spot. I feel a blush creep up my neck, and a smirk starts to pull on the corner of his lip. “It’s going to scar.”

“No it won’t,” Scout says matter-of-factly, not looking up from the orange she’s peeling with her exceptionally long and sharp nails (or are they claws?)

Baz sneers at her, not bothering to pretend to touch his food. He sees me eyeing it and pushes it over in front of me and, at this point, I don’t see a reason to pretend I don’t want it. Although, looking at the way his hair is starting to fall from behind his ear and into his face is making me want-

“So,” Scout interrupts my thoughts, my cheeks heat up at the thought that she might have heard them. She gives me the side-eye to let me know she absolutely did. My face is on fire. “I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while, Shep. How did you end up here?”

For the first time- that I’ve ever seen anyway, Shepard looks nervous. Shy, even. Two things that are definitely not part of the Shepard I know, who rode shotgun next to the vampire king and talked down a dragon (Twice, since I’ve met him).

“I, uh, got myself into a little bit of a predicament, and Penelope’s mom offered to help me out. Well, Penelope offered up her mom’s help.”

Shepard looks over at Penny and sees her struggling with the lid on the jar of jam and holds his hand out. She looks at him like he’s an idiot and spells it open. He drops his hand with a look that says ‘ _ touché _ ’.

“Oh, Shepard…” Scout says, pitifully. “I knew this day would come. You’re way too trusting, too nice. What happened?”

Shepard squirms in his seat under Scout’s question. Penny stands and pulls him up by the sleeve.

“Oh look! They’ve just brought out bacon butties! Simon, do you want some? Of course you do. Shepard come help me carry them back, I’ll need your large capable hands!” Penny doesn’t let anyone get a word in as she starts dragging Shepard behind her towards the serving tables.

Which leaves me sitting between Scout and Baz. Awkwardly. 

Baz starts up without even looking at her.

“Care to explain your behavior in the wood? Or are you going to spell it out in blood on Snow’s chest with the spade of your tail?” He has to make an effort not to say his words through fangs. 

Scout scoots her chair back and moves it so she can face him without looking around me. “We were training, you dumbass. That’s how our kind train, that’s how our  _ drakelings _ train.”

“What’s a drakeling?” I blurt out. 

“An older dragon chick, older than a hatchling but doesn’t have wings yet”, she explains.

“That doesn’t matter!” Baz throws his hands up. I don’t even know why he’s even trying to talk to her. “He’s been like this for a little over a year! And you’re throttling him after being a dragon for, what, 25 years?!”

“More like 95ish.”

“ _ You’re 95 years old?! _ ” I blurt again. I drop my sandwich in my lap when I turn to her.

“Give or take. Our lifespan ranges between 600 to 800 years old. You stop counting after a while.”

Baz huffs like he’s not the least bit intrigued with what she’s saying, but I know he is. It wasn't until America that we learned that dragons could even take on a human form.

He stands so abruptly his chair scraps loudly against the slate stone floor. 

“I’m going back to the room.” He strides off, and I can’t help but watch him.

He moves so gracefully it’s almost agonizing.

“Ugh. Go on, Red”, Scout says, rolling her eyes playfully. “Seems you two have a lot to talk about.” She gives me a knowing smile. “How about you meet me down here later tonight? After dinner?”

“Yeah, sure! Of course.”

“Think of some things you want to know about your kin. Otherwise I’ll have to start from the beginning.” She ruffles my hair and scoots back up to the table, eating another slice of orange.

“Yes, right. Will do. I’ll see you then!” I’m calling back as I’m speed walking towards the door. As soon as I’m outside, I unfurl my wings without thinking and take off towards the window of our tower.

**Baz**

I slam the door as soon as I’m inside the room. I know she’s not here because I can’t smell her, so I can make as much of a scene as I want. 

She’s got Snow wrapped around her long, creepy talons, and he doesn’t even care. She physically abused him today and called it “training,” and he didn’t even question it. 

But maybe that’s how Snow’s training has always been like. He was always the Mage’s boy soldier, and just did what he was told. She’s putting him through the exact same thing, only he’s not a boy now. He’s a man, and this nightmare was supposed to be over from him when the Mage died! He’s plagued with enough nightmares as it is... 

Just as I’m about to grab whatever’s closest and throw it at whatever I damn well please, a crash comes from our window and I’m startled so much, I throw myself against the wardrobe.

Snow comes stepping in from the windowsill, glass shattered from every pane, and the sun shadowing his silhouette just enough to make me catch my breath. It’s completely unfair how gorgeous he is, and he doesn’t even know it.

His heavy leather boots crunch over the shards and he strides towards me. I’m still pressed against the wardrobe when he steps into my space, grabs my shirt by the collar and pulls me down to his mouth. 

It’s not hungry, or carnal. It’s simply just wanting.

He wants me.  _ Me. _

He pulls back but keeps our mouths close together so we’re breathing the same air.

“I know you heard what I said. To Scout, about you”, He whispers against my lips.

“Everyone heard what you said. Thank you for telling her not to eat me.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

He’s not playing games, my banter and teasing won’t work. I’m just going to have to tell him what I want, and hope he doesn’t coil away from me, or worse- take it back.

“Tell me”, I breathe into the small space between us.

He levels me with an unchanged stare, and panic starts to rise hollow into my throat.

“Please? Tell me, again. I need to know it was real.” Because Simon loving me was always just a figment of my imagination for years. I need to know that what he said in the clearing wasn’t just another one of them. He cups my face and pulls gently to rest my forehead against his, and his expression is pained. 

This is it. This is where Simon Snow breaks my heart. When he tells me that all he was doing was trying to save my life. That he’d say anything to keep me safe, but not because he loves me. But because he will do anything to save anyone. Because Simon Snow is good, sincerely good. I know because it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him.

“Baz…” he starts.

He takes a deep breath in, and I know this can’t be good. I know this is over. I shut my eyes tight and hold my breath to brace for the impact. He drops his head against my shoulder and his hands to my chest. Now I won’t even be able to set myself on fire without taking him with me.

“I’m so in love with you”, he exhales against my collar bone. 

My eyes spring open, and keep going wide until they can’t open any further. “Tell me again.”

He grabs my face and looks me dead in the eyes as tears fill up his own. “I’ll tell you as many times as I have to until you believe me.” He moves my hair out of my eyes so that there’s nothing between us. “I am so incredibly, and ruthlessly in love with you. So much that it almost hurts.”

“Again,” I ask. He kisses me.

“I love you.” He kisses me again.

He tells me over and over, between kisses, and I tell him the truth. That I’ve loved him longer than he’ll ever know. That he is the only person I’ve ever wanted. That I’ll never be happy anywhere if it’s not with him. 

I tell him over and over, until I feel that he believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you deem it worthy, leave me a kudos or a comment! See you next week ^_^


	9. For Those Times When I'm Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, another impromptu hiatus from yours truly. Man, I suck at this.  
> Also, I started using Scrivener, and as much as I love it, its messing with the formatting when I copy and paste onto here, so please don't hate me.  
> P.S.- I also didn't reread through, or edit this, like at all.   
> Smut up ahead, so here we gooo!

Baz

I feel like he’s been kissing me for months, now. Not that I’m complaining.  
But in my limited and incredibly erotic intimate time with Simon, this is usually the part where he takes control. And, Crowley, do I fucking live for it.  
“Simon…”  
“Hmm?” he hums his question through a kiss he’s leaving right above the collar of my shirt. What I really want him to do is grab said collar and and rip it, along with the rest of the shirt, off and have his way with me. But instead I say:  
“What do you want?”  
I have to internalize a whine by sheer power of will when he pulls away from me. “Sorry?” he’s genuinely confused—then again, when is he fucking not?  
And just like that, I’ve killed my chances for the erotic grope-fest of my dreams. “I mean…” and if my body were capable of turning scarlet, it would do so from this lethal amount of embarrassment.   
“Can we…” Simon starts, avoiding my eyes. “Can we try something?”  
My heart starts a whole damn floor routine of somersaults as I think, dear fucking Morgana yes! What will it be? More bondage? Orgasm denial? You wouldn’t happen to have a whip in your luggage, would you?  
Instead I say, “What did you have in mind?”  
He lets out a quivering breath, and I’m just now realizing it’s because he’s nervous. None of that daring confidence has showed up yet.  
“Simon? What’s wrong?”  
He steps back with his head still looking down as he goes through his bag and almost black out when I see him pull out a belt.  
“What?” he asks, setting the belt aside so he can reach further into his bag. I stutter out that it’s nothing, I was just lost in thought. It wasn’t necessarily a lie.  
When he stands, he has something small and shiny in his hand. And if I thought I was going to keel over earlier, then I might very well die on the spot when I notice the little aluminum square he starts turning over and over with his fingers.  
“Baz,” he looks up at me with those ordinary blue eyes that are anything but. “Can I fuck you?”

Simon

“Baz?”  
I knew this was too fast. Baz went wide-eyed and slack jawed when he saw the condom in my hand. Merlin, he’s still staring at it now! I knew I shouldn’t have asked him for this. I already ask so much of him.  
“I’m sorry,” I say as I turn to go put the condom away, or throw it away. Maybe I’ll incinerate it if I learn to do that.  
“Wait, what?” Baz says as if he just registered I was talking to him. “No, no, no, no. Stop right there.”  
I do, and he’s back in front of me with both his hands covering one of mine, the one holding the condom. He drops his head so I can’t see his eyes (I don’t like when he does that, I quite like his eyes) as he takes a deep breath. So deep that his shirt tightens as his chest expands. For fuck’s sake, the man even makes breathing look attractive.  
“You have no idea,” he tells me low and quiet, “how long I’ve wanted this.”  
Something flutters back to life in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s hope or happiness or horniness, but right now I honestly don’t care. The man I love wants me, loves me, and he’s willing to give me this. There’s just one problem…  
“Um, Baz,” I bluster only slightly, “I, uh—I don’t really know what to do. I don’t want to hurt you.”  
Baz looks up at me, and I’m half expecting him to make fun of me, the other half expects him to sneer, but he does neither, and looks at me with warmth and love (yes, I said it again. Love, love, love, I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of saying it now).   
“It’s alright, love,” he says, and I melt. “I can show you.”  
“But… I thought that—aren’t you a, um…”  
“Yes, Simon. I’m a virgin, but I know how to…prepare myself.” He looks like he’s going to pass out again. “For when I’m by myself…”  
Oh. Oh.   
I didn’t realize the room was tense until Baz laughs and dissipates it all. “I’m sorry, you just—I wish you could have seen your face—” his own laughter interjects, as well as mine. Soon we’re laughing and holding each other up, and when I look up with my arms around his neck, the very tips of our noses touch.  
I slide my fingers into his hair as I pull him into a kiss that lingers. I walk him back to his bed (he spelled the glass back in place) and lower him down gently. My hands are on his shirt buttons before his back is flat on the mattress.  
“You’ll tell me what to do?” I ask through my quickening breaths.  
“Yes.” He bites his lower lip. I lean down and do it for him and he makes a sound that shoots through me like lightening.  
“You’ll tell me if it hurts?” I’m already down with the shirt and starting on his trousers.  
“Yes.” He leans up just enough to pull his shirt off and discard it, “but that doesn’t mean I want you to stop.”  
I freeze and so does he. “Baz,” I say, trying to be serious but my breathing is still ragged, “I want this to be…different. Is that okay?”  
He looks up at me with those storm cloud eyes and cups my jaw. “Me too,” he says, “I want to remember this for the rest of my life.” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip and, God, it does something to me. “I want to make you feel good.”  
I can’t wait any longer.   
I crash my mouth to his and kiss him like the very act of it is my oxygen. “Take my clothes off,” I tell him. He hesitates, but does so after I tell him it’s okay.  
We’re down to our pants when Baz leans over to grab something. “Ah ha!” he says, pulling out a travel size bottle of lube from his bag. “I knew it was in there somewhere.”  
“Why do you even have—”  
“Shhh,” Baz says with a finger over my lips. “For those times when I’m alone.”  
I’m about to laugh when he kisses me, and he must have forgot that I start to suffocate when I’m the one being kissed. But when I close my eyes and wait for that feeling to take the air out of my lungs, it doesn’t. I keep waiting, but it never comes. I wrap my arms around Baz’s shoulder blades and lean my whole weight into him. He’s yelps in surprise at first, but then moans into my mouth and I feel myself rock hard against him. He’s already leaking through his pants.  
“Simon…” he breaths into my mouth and, reluctantly, I pull back a fraction. “Please.”  
I draw out a simple, lingering kiss as I take off his pants. Fuck, I’ll never get used to his body. It’s flawless.  
Baz talks me through everything as he coats my fingers in lube. When I slip a finger inside him he practically keens. I freeze.  
“Keep going,” he pants. “Fuuuck that feels amazing.”  
He begins to roll his hips onto my finger and causes me to slip in further. His jaw goes slack, and I know I’m stupidly gaping at him, but he’s just so fucking beautiful that I don’t want to miss this. I want to see that it can feel good for him.  
I slip in another finger and move them in his body with the rhythm he’s created. Each breath he takes is a plea of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘more’. He starts to twitch and grit his teeth, and I feel him tighten around my fingers. The very sensation of what that will feel like on my cock gets me wet.  
“Are you ready?” he asks.  
“Yes,” I don’t even think about it. I didn’t know it before, but I’ve waited my whole life to share this with him, and I can’t wait another bloody second.  
I’m clumsy with the condom (I had to find it first because I dropped it on the floor), but once its on then everything starts to become very real.   
“We can stop,” Baz says as he watches me hesitate. “We can wait.”  
I feel him shiver when I line myself up, and even though he’s always room temperature, I can feel the slick heat from inside.  
“Are you sure?” he asks, and I can see the fear in his eyes.  
“More than anything,” I tell him, and push inside.  
He cries out and I have to keep my body from collapsing on top of him as I slide in, little by little, inside him. He’s still so tight, but he feels so good I’m afraid that I’m…  
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” I growl through gritted teeth. No matter how hard I fight it, a wave of pleasure and ecstasy crashes over me. All because I got the fucking tip in…  
“I’m so sorry,” and I know I’m glowing red. Baz almost look prideful.  
“I feel that good, huh?” he teases, and I kiss him.  
“It always feels good with you.”  
“What does?”  
“Everything.”  
He kisses me and cards his fingers through my curls, and the sensation of his finger nails scratching against my scalp is enough to make me hard again. He breaks away when he feel it, too.  
“Can I?”  
Baz nods with more enthusiasm than I’ve ever seen. I dig my knees into the mattress and roll my hips into him, slow and gentle until I’m completely inside. He’d told me that he might have to get used to me when we got here. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Baz snaps.  
“Dear God, Simon, I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right this moment!” he whines, and I’m completely stunned. “Please. Please, I’m begging you. Fuck me.”  
I can never say no to him, and I’m not starting now.  
I give him what he wants, or at least I think I do…well, whatever I’m doing seems to be working because he’s so loud. It’s so fucking hot that I have to cover his mouth. But then that makes it even hotter so I close my eyes and concentrate.  
I focus on the feeling around me as I move inside him and, every few thrusts or so, I’ll shift to try to reach deeper. I want to be so deep inside him, it’s driving me mad.  
“There!” he cries when I move into a different angle. “Fuck. Yes. Right there, oh fuck.”  
His fowl mouth is enough to send me over the edge, but I’m determined to get him there before I do and thrust into him harder than I had before. I’m getting ready to ask if I’ve hurt him when he cuts me off.  
“Harder. Do it harder,” he says breathlessly. If he says another word I’ll be done for.  
The rolls of my hips start turning into sharper thrusts as he perches a leg over my shoulder. His whole body begins to shake as I keep my pace. My thighs are burning and I’m sweating everywhere, but I’m about to hit my second orgasm when I stroke Baz’s cock in time with my hips and his head falls back in a silent scream. He comes so hard that it reaches his collarbone, and he’s gone so tight I’m afraid to move inside him any longer.  
“Keep going,” he says through the aftershocks, his body twitching in response to each move I make.   
It feels so good, and I’m edging so hard that I feel like I’ll never come.   
“Yes. Harder. I want to know what it feels like when you come inside me. I love you.”  
And that’s all it takes to send me hurling over the edge. I’m hit wave after wave after wave, and it’s so intense that my eyes start to water. I bite my lip so hard that I taste blood, but I’m still coming and Baz is fucking reveling the feeling of it.  
My body finally relaxes and I collapse on top of him. I think I knock the wind out of him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. I feel his stickiness all over my stomach and I decide not to tell him how much I like it.   
Baz starts tracing his finger up and down my back after I pull out of him and whispers how much he loves me into my ear. Once we’re cleaned up, I ask him to do it again and I fall asleep to the sound of his voice and the touch of his fingers, and the promise that we’re going to be okay. We’re going to be together forever, if I have any say in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the new chapter! Don't forget to give kudos and/or share if you feel so inclined ^_^  
> Also, please don't hate me, but I probably won't be able to update until after November because I'll be particiapting in NaNoWriMo this year! I'm hoping I can finish the month with my first, and inevitably terrible, draft and then edit for the rest of my life after that (at the rate I'm at with it right now, it will probably be more than 80k words. God help me.)  
> Good luck to everyone out there who's also joining in on the fun! Thanks for reading!


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